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“You know, the ego is very insecure. . . . It uses judgment as armor to protect itself. The ego judges others to shield itself from its own insecurities, which are based on fear. The ego, needing to be special, feeds on constant approval and needs enemies in order to be superior—it raises itself up by putting others down. . . . In other words, by judging others,” Ethel explained, gathering the ingredients for piecrust. “People have a never-ending fear-based dialogue with their egos, which is a source of much unhappiness. They’re afraid of not being good enough, being wrong, not being in control, losing their possessions, being shamed, being judged, not being smart enough, being ugly, being rejected, being destitute, being old and alone. And ultimately, they’re afraid of dying.”

“You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go. We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window: "Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown, Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down." I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes, But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues.”

“You know the feeling, when the morning breeze gushes onto you and makes you literally wonder how on Earth are you so fortunate to walk on this Beautiful planet, the feeling that the Mountains wave in your heart telling you nothing is too big to leave you in pain, while the waves find you the soothing monotony of Calm making you know that the Simplest of Life is the Purest of All. That, precisely that is the feeling I am always running after, and in wandering along the woods I find them, in the Stillness of a long lost wind, in the restless air softly kissing away my eyes, and the galloping meandering murky redolence of Earth, who knows exactly how to find me a missing piece, somewhere stolen and quietly tucked in the time-worn fragments of a solitary Sunshine.”

“You know the feeling, when you decide to walk a certain way, and while actually taking the walk, you lose your way and tumble across an entirely new alleyway, you listen to your soul, that mad mad gypsy soul of yours and tread along that unknown path and get mesmerized by all the beauty that surrounds that path, and thank your soul for that walk, that strange crazy step that took you there. Meantime, that mind of yours, that overzealous protective disciplinarian, keeps reminding you how you've turned your path, how you are losing on Time and perhaps a little bit of your dream's favour, only to let your heart smile upon its foolishness, oh but nothing is a dead-end, just a detour and you can take as many detours as you want because your Soul isn't bound by Time and dreams are but Stardust born of every star dying to breathe in yet again, just another dance of a death and birth of a star, a dream, a path to find and to lose, a walk, a long long walk, a thousand detours and yet each one as full of life and beautiful as the majesticity of Life is meant to be.”

“You know the feeling when you're falling? When you take a step onto what used to be sold ground and suddenly it just falls out from under you? You start to spiral slowly, gathering speed until you know that you are within seconds from hitting the ground, and you're praying that you'll hit, that everything will just disappear, that everything you've been fighting to escape will just consume you and everything will be over. But then the ground doesn't come and you just keep falling and falling and falling, trapped in a nightmare that will never end.”

“You know the feeling when your Life gets a little bleak, not because of anything lacking but perhaps because of the overwhelming nature of Life itself. When you realise that your soul feels everything so deeply that your mind has found an escape route by shutting the nerves of your heart. And then you realise, your heart is too strong and it could never be stopped from feeling all that is passing you by, plainly the most beautiful emotions that this world abhors. Pain. Grief. Melancholy of the deepest kind. An agony that has no reason at all. Or perhaps there is, only your clever mind knows a way to not let the reason meet your eyes. And in that moment, that fraction of a moment, you choke in your soul and ask your heart why does it beat yet another moment, and then you hear a voice, a slim voice that's always been pushing you to that corner of mad infinite deepness of human cosmos, because you are here to do good, despite all that happens to you, especially for all that happens to you, because your pain is never your weakness but the brightest light that tells you how to remove the pain from every passerby. Your mind gets shocked and your heart doesn't know what to do, so they numb your soul and yet a tiny flicker somewhere screams through the weak tired frame of your bleak existence, asking you to spread that light even to the last of your breath. And then when you open your eyes, a line comes by, All the good you do, will come back one day, they said. Keep it, I said. Love & Light, always - Debatrayee”

“You know, the husband, John Bobbit, he formed a band after that whole thing. The Severed Parts," I tell him. "I'm pretty sure he did a lot of porn, too." Jake just lies there, staring at me. The teasing in his eyes has been replaced with a serious, assessing look. "What?" I say. God, boys are weird. "How did you know that?" he asks. He actually sounds impressed. "It's called the internet. You might try living in the twenty-first century sometime," I mumble.”